A Cinderella Story
by AW Science Geek
Summary: Once upon a time, a muggle-born witch lost her parents to the Second Wizarding War. Taken into Madame Lestrange's refining school, Hermione fights blood prejudice and hardship to compete in the only chance to leave her abused life behind - a competition for Draco Malfoy's hand in marriage. Play-off of the Cinderella story, with a distinctive Harry Potter twist. AU. T for language.
1. Chapter 1 The Funeral

Chapter 1: The Funeral

AN: This chapter is largely a lot of background, to 'set the scene' in this AU (alternative universe). Please let me know if you have any questions that should be cleared up, though some things (like Hermione's parents' deaths) may be explained later as a subplot. I'm trying to stick to the books as much as possible, but some things will be tweaked here and there. This is definitely not set in modern day or the late 1900s, think more fairy-tale and Cinderella time-frame. Also, DISCLAIMER: If I owned Harry Potter, then Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger would have had a dramatic romance and Ronald Weasley would be more of a dunderhead.

Hermione Granger watched the last shovelful of dirt thrown on top of her parents, effectively cutting them off from the rest of the world. Placing her magically black roses on the freshly-turned dirt, she wiped her tears away from her face, shuddering with silent sobs. She barely paid attention to the solemn speeches given by the Weasley family, or the baker's son, or Jean's favorite customers. Her eyes were focused on the tombstone, a silent rock that bore their names and years. They were just another dead couple, just another love story that had ended together. It was not a powerful love story, either. Their deaths would never be the story of Lily and James Potter. Their love would never be remembered like Romeo and Juliet. No, they were just the plain and simple Grangers, and that was it. That was all.

"Why?" she whispered to the silent flowers, the petals gently fluttering in the breeze. She looked up to the grey sky overhead, flat and dismal. The proceedings of the funeral blew away in a blur. Hours of silent tears and solemn faces flowed by. She barely noticed Harry's reassuring squeeze, or Ron awkwardly patting her shoulder. When she was alone again, she let the tears flow freely. "Stay with me," she whispered again, though this time directing her words at the tombstone. The wind seemed to caress her cheek, throwing back her brown frizzy locks away from her tear-stained face.  
"Always…" the wind whispered back to her, and she a contented sigh escaped from her pink, chapped lips.

Not many people had come to the funeral, for the Grangers were a simple and ordinary family. Jean Granger kept open a bookshop, while Robert ran a small apothecary. While many disagreed with Jean's odd independence, no one outright complained, as she did a decent job of helping her frequent customers and had an impeccable sense of organization. The largest libraries in England could barely rival her impressive and efficient cataloging system. Hermione obviously inherited Jean's love of books, as well as the independence that society found a bit disturbing for women at that time.

The local community found the Grangers to be a slightly eccentric family, but a good one nevertheless. However, the shock of their deaths left a few muggles grasping for an explanation, which, of course, they would never find. Even their wizarding friends were unsure of the circumstances surrounding their deaths, but most chalked it up to Lord Voldemort's dark reign.

Hermione Granger was a little strange. At eleven years old, the young doe-eyed child was extremely accident-prone. The circumstances and coincidences became more and more peculiar, and soon everyone was wary of being in her presence. Obviously sensitive to the feelings of rejection, Hermione found her solace, unsurprisingly, in books.

But her idiosyncrasies never faded away, and soon a particularly bizarre owl flew into the Granger household, carrying a letter from a certain Albus Dumbledore. The letter suddenly brought light to all of Hermione's perplexing accidents, and helped the Grangers realize there was a whole community where Hermione was finally normal. There was even a school for witches and wizards with Hermione's capabilities! Although, as a female, she would not be housed as a full-time student at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Hermione felt that with a magical education, she could accomplish anything. She attended classes during the day, while coming home at night. Excited to finally have a place to belong, she jumped at the chance, flying into the school with unbridled enthusiasm. Alas, she, once again, was a stranger. Being a muggle-born, she was repeatedly teased and bullied by a certain Slytherin prince, Draco Malfoy. Hermione found her home to be her safe haven from the hell of her school.

Now, her home was gone as well.

Albus Dumbledore kindly found a home for her, with other girls from her school. Madame Bellatrix Lestrange was a renowned home for orphaned girls, and churned out the most eligible maidens throughout all of England. Hermione would be housed with other girls from her year: Lavender Brown, Parvarti Patil, and Padma Patil. Hermione had never had much contact with these girls, and hoped that they would find common ground, especially since they were at such a prestigious boarding home.

Hermione had only a few friends at Hogwarts, and her main best friends were male: Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley. Harry Potter had been orphaned as an infant, and was raised by a rather dreadful muggle family, the Dursleys. However, at the age of thirteen, as a young lord, he inherited a rather large sum from his deceased parents and was left alone in his old manor.

Ronald Weasley was a different story. His family was ordinary, much like the Grangers, but in the Wizarding world. Ron's brothers, George and Fred, owned a successful joke shop, much to the displeasure of many Hogwarts professors. Molly Weasley owned a dress shop, and Arthur held a respectable position in the Lord Kingsley Shacklebolt's court. Bill and Charlie were off having adventures in other places: Bill in France and Charlie in Romania. Ginny Weasley had caught Harry Potter's eye, much to many other girls' dismay.

Harry and Ron were famous, after recently defeating Lord Voldemort at the Battle of Hogwarts. Although Hermione was the major brain behind Lord Voldemort's defeat, she quietly slipped into the background, mourning her parents silently.

"Hermione, my dear, are you well?" asked Molly Weasley, enveloping Hermione in a bear-hug. Molly loved her like a daughter, and would have taken Hermione in had Dumbledore found no other option.

Hermione shrugged, pulling out of the embrace. "As well as I can be, Mrs. Weasley."

"Well," Molly repeated, and grasped Hermione by her shoulders, "you really mustn't feel too sad. Your parents wouldn't want you to be so. Think of your future as an opportunity! If I could afford Madame Lestrange for Ginny – well! We would never worry about any demands on her dowry!"

Hermione smiled sadly, "Harry is a good man, and you know he loves Ginny so. I don't think you'll have a heart-attack over her suitor's demands."

Molly grinned. "Now that was pure luck. I can barely imagine the suitors you'll get! If only Ronald would realize what a gem is in front of his face!"

Hermione managed a small chuckle. Molly embraced her once more.

"Do feel better, my dear. And if you ever have any trouble, don't hesitate to contact me. Especially if you need a particularly dashing dress!" Molly waved her goodbye.

"I will!" Hermione promised, and turned to survey her surroundings one last time.

As she looked around the cemetery, Hermione counted a scant forty, who were slowly dispersing and leaving. Compared to the hundreds of diplomats, Lords, and Dukes that had attended Rodolphus Lestrange's funeral a few months prior, Hermione's parents were mere paupers; they had never been in the public eye. Hermione glanced past her fellow villagers, and focused on the tall, dark woman with unruly black locks. The woman was eying Hermione like a piece of fresh meat, making Hermione shift uncomfortably. This was Hermione's future, this woman, for Madame Lestrange would either make her a desirable maiden, or a disgusting wench. The woman beckoned Hermione to come over, and Hermione forced herself to walk, chin up and back straight.

"Good day, Madame Lestrange," Hermione curtsied politely. Bellatrix nodded stiffly, looking Hermione up and down, and circled her. Hermione fought the urge to fidget. Bellatrix stopped in front of Hermione, causing Hermione's heart to thump loudly against her rib cage. Hermione tried to read the cold, black eyes, but only saw…dissatisfaction? Distress? Confusion?

And then, Madame Bellatrix Lestrange smiled, chilling Hermione to the bone. Her eyes glittered with malice.

"Welcome to my school, _Mudblood_" she hissed.

Hermione shuddered and struggled to keep her composure, even though all she wanted to do was run as fast as she could the opposite direction of Madame Lestrange. With Hogwarts closed, Hermione had no other place to go, and was at the mercy of Bellatrix Lestrange.


	2. Chapter 2 Draco's Vow

Chapter 2: Draco's Vow

Draco Malfoy was rather irritated with the world, at the moment.

Lord Voldemort had forced his way back into human life, and dragged down so much of the aristocracy with his insanity. On top of his insanity, he ultimately failed. Destroyed by a blood traitor, a half-blood, and a _Mudblood_. How much lower could the aristocracy fall? Now, it was not uncommon to ride into the market without peasants acting as if they were 'holier than thou.' As if those lesser beings had any right to even glance upon pureblooded aristocrats!

Also, Draco's parents were currently harrassing him with his need to marry.

Preferably, soon.

Preferably, a pureblooded witch who knew that she should only speak when spoken to.

Draco rolled his eyes at this thought. Who would ever associate themselves with a former Death Eater? Much less marry one?

Of course, their were always options, like Lord Parkinson's daughter, or the Greengrasses. But all of them were shallow, obsessed with fortune and fame, and not beautiful enough to ignore those other factors.

Just to add to his issues this very morning, a rather will-be-dead-soon peacock screeched altogether too loudly, awakening a very, very annoyed Draco Malfoy.

And so, when Draco's mother appeared in the doorway that morning with a list of prospective wives from Madame Lestrange, he snapped.

"Good morning dear! Now, get up! You see, I contacted Madame Lestrange, so that we could get a bigger list of eligible maidens. I have a whole new list of potential brides-"

"For the love of sweet Salazar! _This_ is what I am greeted with in the morning? Get out of my room! I am _not_ getting married anytime soon, Mother!" he snapped, forgetting his place in his fury.

His mother's eyes hardened. "How _dare_ you speak to me with so much blatant disrespect? I raised you better than to swear like a common sea dog! If you won't be cooperative, than your father and I will decide your match for you! So make up your mind, be part of this process or not! Regardless, you _will_ marry and you will marry _soon_!" she screeched.

Draco bit the inside of his cheek, and willed her to continue. "Now," Narcissa began, relaxing visibly. "What about the Greengrass sisters? I can't believe that I had forgotten about them on our initial list! Thank goodness for dear Bella, it was rather silly of me to forget about them. They're incredibly eligible, and I know Lady Greengrass would have taught her daughters well. Either mademoiselle Daphne or mademoiselle Astoria would be a wonderful, beautiful mistress of Malfoy manor, although I do think that Astoria would be better suited. She is far more pretty and younger than Daphne, so you wouldn't ever feel challenged in terms of your age-" Narcissa prattled on and on, and Draco could not hold his tongue in any longer.

"Mother! For the last time, I DO NOT WANT TO MARRY!" Draco roared. Narcissa's mouth hung open in shock.

"How _dare_ you treat me with so little respect, for the second time this morning! I taught you better than this atrocious behavior that is by no means suited for the son of a pure-blooded Lord! You _will _marry soon, as the Malfoy name must be reinstated after the Dark Lord's fall! This is much bigger than your own selfish desires to bumble along as a young bachelor, to try to clear our tarnished reputation you _must_ marry and marry soon? What better way to settle things down than to marry a nice, pureblood girl with a neutral family during the past war, settle down, plan a huge social gathering to uphold our legacy, and then gently fade into the shadows after your honeymoon? This is the end of the line, Draco! You will _marry_ by the end of this year, and I hope you'll be a bit more cooperative in this process! Otherwise, I may have to be a tad bit more drastic in my persuasive measures!" Narcissa scolded harshly. "Lucius!" she called shrilly. "Draco is being _impossible!_" Narcissa swore a little in French, but stopped as Lucius strode into Draco's room, immensely displeased.

"Draco, you know that you _must-_" Lucius began.

"-uphold the family name, legacy, honor, yes father, I know that bit" Draco interrupted sarcastically.

"DRACO LUCIUS MALFOY!" both his father and mother admonished.

"He is leaving us no choice in this matter!" cried Narcissa. "We'll have to force him to take a vow!"

"Now..." Lucius put his hand on his wife's shoulder. "Draco, you _are_ going to marry, and it is going to be by the end of _this_ year. This is absolute. There are no ifs, ands, or buts. We had hoped you might look around and find someone you could tolerate and be a good match for the Malfoy Manor Mistress, but you've been resisting everything we try!"

Draco sighed, muttering that he couldn't ever dream of tolerating _any_ of the girls he had met so far. And they were quickly running out of eligible maidens.

Lucius paused, "What was that, son?"

"Nothing, sir," Draco met his father's gaze.

Lucius stared hard at his son. "Good," he stated stiffly. "As I was saying, we were trying to avoid an arranged marriage, but you are leaving us with no other options."

Draco jumped up at this. "Arrange marriage? NO, I will _not_ allow this! You'll match me up with the most insufferable pure-blooded girl out there!"

Narcissa glared at him coolly. "Well, dearest, do you really have that little faith in our choosing capabilities? What would _you_ suggest? And you _must_ be at least engaged by the end of this year!"

Draco sat back down on his bed, dejected.

"I thought not. Well, that's settled then. Narcissa, please pen the Greengrass family and arrange an interview with the girls-"

"Wait!" cried Draco.

"What is it NOW?" Lucius thundered, clearly exasperated and losing patience with his son.

"I have an idea. What if we commanded all of the eligible maidens between the ages of fifteen and nineteen to compete in a series of different challenges that would determine who would be the most suited to running the Manor and living a life with me? It could be completely anonymous, so that I would not have any personal bias coming into play, almost like a masquerade ball, but throughout the competition. Of course, I would meet with them after a few rounds of elimination to make sure they were all tolerable, but I wouldn't know who they were. At the end of the competition, I would marry the winner, with no reservations or complaints." Draco paused, out of breath. He looked at his parents, who were silent, contemplating his proposal. "Well?"

"You forgot one of the criteria, that the girls must be _pure-blood_" Lucius drawled.

Draco waved his hand, dismissing the notion. "What better way to better our reputation by inviting all girls, regardless of blood-purity, to the competition? I'm sure the mudbloods wouldn't survive beyond the first few elimination rounds, being far less _powerful_ and _civilized_," Draco sneered, challenging his father. To be truthful, Draco did not buy the blood-purity prejudice after the Dark Lord had fallen. Clearly, blood traitors and mudbloods were more powerful than any pure-blood would like to admit. For Salazar's sake, even the Dark Lord was a mere half-blood!

Narcissa nodded her head. "Agreed, Lucius, this could serve a wonderful boost to our name, in a society of blood-traitors and mudbloods that we cannot extinguish. I'm sure even if a mudblood were to make it to Draco's interview, he'd pick her off before she even opened her mouth."

Lucius grunted in reply. "Do you swear, then, to take the Unbreakable Vow that you _will_ marry the winner of this competition?"

"I'll do it, no resistance, no complaints, just complete acceptance," Draco grinned, planning to eliminate every obnoxious pure-blooded girl out there.

"Narcissa, bring Bella to complete the Unbreakable Vow with Draco, and begin designing the competition. Of course, I will need the full plan, but I'll let the initial planning be done by the two of you. After all, the Mistress of Malfoy Manor must know the best things to challenge these young girls with. Good day, and I believe you have actually made a successful proposition, young man. You may yet become a successful Malfoy heir," Lucius stated dryly.

Draco smiled as Lucius left the room. That was perhaps the most praise he had ever received from his father in the entirety of Draco's nineteen year life.


End file.
